Imagine for a moment that all those churches you drive past every day are filling stations. But instead of Chevron, Exxon, Pure, Citgo and Mobil, imagine it's Episcopal, Lutheran, Baptist, Bible and Presbyterian fuel. Roll that around in your head for a minute. All those filling stations, so many spiritual pumps...practically one per corner. Where am I going with this?
This isn't a blog about the difference between low and high-octane spiritual fuel. It's not about fuel additives, supplements or dilution, though that would be fun. No, it's about the sanctuary as filling station, the church as rest stop--the place we go to get serviced.
Think about that. All us church goers each Sunday, many with the family piled in behind, as we pull into our religious filling station. Our spiritual tank is running on fumes...we're into the emergency tank, for heaven's sake. It's time to top up!
Some of us head for a station that's pumping a brand we trust--"No water in that gas." Others are looking for convenience: "It's a fast in and out, right off the beltway, and plenty of parking." Still others have an eye for end-to-end service: "I like the coffee hot and the rest rooms clean."
What all us worship consumers have in common is the desire to be filled up. It's Sunday. We're running on empty. We need to get charged for the upcoming week.
So, Fill 'er up! Come to think of it, let's get a spiritual tune-up while we're at it. Hook up to the diagnostic, check out that engine knock that's been getting louder lately. Maybe even some gracious lubrication is in order.
So we pull into the Full Service side of the island. We expect a warm welcome which means, at our church service station, there better be a greeter. Let's have some pleasant music to accompany our sojourn, thank you very much. The music should be just right: not too loud, not too contemporary or classic...just so.
And the message. Now that's the big differentiator, the main event! Serve us up a message that has some staying power--that sticks to our spiritual ribs--to carry us through this week. We need a gospel pick-me-up, a good news boost that uplifts and recharges us for the next seven days or 1,000 miles, whichever comes first. Better have some amusements for the kids, too. They need a distraction, so they don't distract us while we're getting serviced.
That's one vision of Sunday worship. One that is all too common in us, in our churches, our city and our world. Worship as consumption. Worshippers as consumers.
Now let's try a different slant.
We're pulling into church Sunday morning, only now we're piloting a tanker truck instead of a minivan. The fuel inside is branded...it's My Worship. Instead of pulling up at the service island, we swing that big rig around, jump down from the cab, put on gloves and go to work.
We're here to deliver, not just receive. We're called to deliver high-octane worship. We hook up that big nozzle to our tanker supply of My Worship and start pouring out the praise, the adoration, the glory to God. He's the customer, not us.
Got the picture? Now let's ask ourselves the tough question: How are we doing? If God was keeping score, what grades would He give us on attitude, preparation, attentiveness, energy, commitment? How about just showing up? Sunday? Monday? Tuesday?
You mean worship goes beyond 90 minutes a week? Don't even ask, a voice tells us.
Aren't you glad God marks on the biggest curve in the universe? He constantly gives us a "pass," even with lackluster performance and anemic effort. Why? Because He has no standards?
No...we know He has the highest standards. It's because His Son met that standard, took the test for us and aced it. And when we really believe that, He knows that it will show forth in an outpouring of adoration every Sunday...every Monday...yes, almost 24/7.
Thank you Father, Son and Holy Spirit for the grace that surpasses human understanding. I pray I worship you well this day, every day!
Chris Joyce
Comments